Forbidden Fruit
by JetfireWeasleyThe5th
Summary: "She was off-limits, as far as Soundwave was concerned. A lone ranger with ties to nobody - least of all the Decepticon cause." (A fic formerly destined for the scrapheap of never-publishedness that was resurrected at the request of a friend. Smutty Sound/Air goodness with mentions of Knockout/Airachnid - basically your average PWP, albeit with a not-so-average pairing. )


**Welp, this was originally a sad, half finished little smutfic destined never to see the light of day, let alone its own page on , but then NitroStation came along complaining about the lack of Sound/Air fic in this fandom. And that is why I dug it out of my notebook and stuck it up here. ;) **

**This is inspired by her stuff to a certain extent (which you should definitely go check out if you're a fan of Airachnid), but at the same time I kinda wanted to turn the tables a little and have Air be the dominant one.**

**First try at properly sticky interfacing ahead, but I do have a headcanon that's a little different to the regular principle for this kind of smut. Not sure if it's actually evident in the story, but I've always thought that transfluid would be used more as a conductor to channel the charge that creates an overload than as the actual product used in interfacing/reproduction/whatever. Won't say any more as I'm capable of waxing long about my theory, but I just wanted to point that out. :)**

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She was off-limits, as far as Soundwave was concerned. A lone ranger with ties to nobody - least of all, the Decepticon cause. Her loyalty was questionable at best, there was very little about her to be found in the database, and no one on the _Nemesis_ really wanted to think about what happened to the vehicons who went missing near her quarters.

That didn't stop him wanting her.

Which was why she was currently sat on the monitor keypad in front of him, legs stretched out before her and pede-tips just brushing the front of his chest. She'd apparently had similar ideas, and had cornered the TIC one night when only he, ever-diligent, had remained in the control room.

Soundwave's digits tightened on the console either side of her as one of her feet dropped to press against his codpiece, spike rising to the contact and starting to twitch.

She had him right where she wanted him - lured in, strung up and wrapped in her web, ready to do whatever she desired. And for once, Soundwave couldn't care less.

Airachnid's legs slid around the mech's waist as she shifted towards him and rested her servos lightly on his chassis. Lips parting slightly, she bent her helm to hover near his neck, exvents playing over the cabling there. The spy tilted his helm back as she nipped at sensitive wires, gripping under her thighs and attempting to lift her.

She realised what he was doing, however, and drew back - there was no way she was letting him take control here, and Soundwave knew it. Instead, the servos on his chest stilled and retreated before suddenly expelling twin jets of webbing. Soundwave was caught in the chassis and hit the opposite wall, struggling feebly against the restraints.

Laughing softly, she hopped off the console and strutted over to where he lay with a deliberate sway to her hips and a dangerous glitter in her optics. The entire spectacle screamed a message of sensual power that the mech would have no choice but to obey.

Damn, but if that wasn't a serious turn-on. Soundwave wasn't normally one for submission (his tentacles did have... _other _uses, and none of them involved being the dominat_ed _partner), but the idea of this femme having her way with him, unpredictable and sadistic as she was, filled the spy with a heady shot of adrenaline-drenched arousal. Silent and cold he may have appeared, but behind the forbidding black glass of his visor the mech had been watching Airachnid, powered by a mix of intrigue, suspicion, and no small amount of lust. Despite the emotionless facade he presented he was still a regular mech after all, and he had admitted to himself early on and with great ease that he wanted this femme.

Admitting something and acting on it were two entirely different things, Soundwave had soon found out.

Still, even stuck to the wall, he felt he had made the right choice. At least, his spike certainly thought so, and his spike seemed to be the one calling the shots on his decisions at present.

_Sorry, CPU, you're out of a job for the moment._

Soundwave honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd let himself go like this. Airachnid had him in a situation that would allow her to offline him with a single blow, depriving the Decepticons of one of their most valuable assets and, a bit closer to home, relieving Soundwave of his spark.

These concerns, serious though they may have been, were more or less utterly drowned in the next few nanokliks. Airachnid was upon him with a low laugh and a flurry of spindly limbs; the razor-edged appendages pinning him to the wall like a specimen for dissection.

Well. That had effectively put a stopper on his attempts to free himself.

Thankfully, it didn't seem to be piecing him apart that the femme was interested in. Optics glowing a hungry pink, the techno-organic slid up against him, curving her frame until their bodies were almost melded into one. Soundwave would never have guessed that her thigh could fit quite so snugly against his codpiece. He wasn't complaining, though.

The mech was doing his best to remain on his guard - Airachnid was was notoriously deceptive even for the faction she belonged to, as he knew first hand, and as such there was the chance that she could turn on him at any moment.

It was proving somewhat difficult, however, as the copter seemed to sense that her victim still retained some measure of resolve. Soft lips curved upwards in amusement before she bent her ornately sculpted helm close to press them to the mech's chassis. Soundwave felt the pressure on his spike cover disappear momentarily, before being replaced tenfold courtesy of a slender spider leg as Airachnid's glossa worked its way down his chest. Digits poked through the webbing securing him to the wall, digging into seams and tweaking wires.

The spy was struggling again now, but for an entirely different reason. His spike was so painfully pressurised as to be almost unbearable, and he wanted nothing more than to be free of his bonds with the techno-organic pinned beneath him.

Just as before, though, Airachnid refused to let him have his way. With a hum of amusement she dropped out of sight; moments later Soundwave tensed, neck arching, as he felt her glossa running along his spike cover. The cable within pulsed, pushing uncomfortably against its casing.

The techno-organic laughed as she felt this, tracing a delicate talon along the seams of the mech's codpiece. That was too much for Soundwave. His panel slid aside and his spike sprang free, drops of transfluid already beading around the metal connector at the tip. Airachnid murmured softly in appreciation as she extended her glossa to lap these up, and the vibrations combined with the feeling of her tongue against his spike had the spy thrashing against the webbing once more.

"A little over-eager, aren't we, Soundwave?" the femme grinned, and despite her words her digits mercifully took over the work of her glossa, wrapping around his length to stroke from base to tip.

"Patience is a virtue, after all."

Soundwave was quite prepared to tell patience exactly where it could shove its supposedly virtuous nature. Airachnid continued to brush elegant claws along his spike and her glossa transferred itself to the silent mech's abdomen, worming its way into transformation seams as wicked denta scraped over his plating.

The silent mech who, right now, was experiencing substantial difficulty upholding that particular trait. His helm was thrown back, brushing against the wall he was pinned to; struggling to hold in a groan as Airachnid continued to pump his spike. Soundwave's hips jerked reflexively, transfluid leaking from the tip of his member as it was mercilessly teased. However, the webbing wrapped around him prevented much movement, and it was to his great consternation that the mech realised he was confined to the techno-organic's agonisingly slow pace. Though it wasn't for lack of trying - he had renewed his efforts to free himself with great gusto.

It was this struggling that first alerted Soundwave to the fact that one of his tentacles was actually unhindered, and an invisible smirk played beneath his impassive glass mask as a sinuous cable slid free and dropped silently to the floor. Tendrils unsheathed from the end, but the entire appendage froze on its journey as Airachnid gently squeezed her victim's spike.

A burst of static was all that the spy was willing to concede by way of response, but it still brought a grin to his tormentor's face.

Moments later, the femme's triumphant expression dissolved to the accompaniment of a startled hiss. Soundwave's concealed smirk broadened as she bowed her helm, gritting her denta to hold in further reaction. She wouldn't manage for long, though - not when the slender pink tendrils on the end of his cable were currently inching their way under her valve cover.

Said tendrils gave a sharp jab for emphasis and Airachnid stiffened, groaning through her clenched teeth.

Unfortunately, that one came back to bite him on the aft, so to speak, when her servos contracted instinctively around his spike.

That wasn't entirely pleasant, but it managed to drag a sonorous moan from the mech's vocalizer and the spider grinned as though it had been intentional. He retaliated by forcing the tendrils deeper into her port; swirling against sensory clusters and nodes and dragging cries from her voicebox until her valve cover slid aside, granting him full access.

Things seemed to have arranged themselves into a race now - a race to make the other overload first. Airachnid had had a head start, true - and it was only thanks to her current distraction that Soundwave was able to reflect on this - but the mech was confident in the knowledge that he possessed superior equipment.

... As was evidenced by the femme was currently clinging to his hips, uttering a string of mixed moans and curses in response to the tendrils writhing inside her valve. The spy could feel lubricant dripping onto his tentacle below her.

Which was all well and good, but it did leave his spike feeling somewhat neglected. A little grudgingly, Soundwave relented and allowed Airachnid to regain her composure. He was determined to win this little battle for dominance, but that wasn't going to prevent him from getting something out of it for himself.

The femme gasped as the tendrils slithered from her valve, helm bumping against the spy's delicate interface cable and causing it to twitch.

She apparently felt his hips shift in her grip, and glanced up at him. The smirk was back. Soundwave was instantly alert. Well, as alert as it was possible to be when the majority of one's energon supply was flowing distinctly south of the processor.

Whatever degree of caution he was exercising once again soon vanished though, to be replaced with surprise as angular limbs slammed into the wall above him. Airachnid lifted herself up, servos grasping the mech's shoulders and knees pressing on either side of his waist. She brushed her forehelm against Soundwave's in a mocking display of affection.

The TIC swore that those hypnotic pink firebrands were staring directly into his own, carefully concealed optics.

Without warning, the femme lowered herself onto his spike, and Soundwave released a low hum by way of a pleasured grunt. The techno-organic answered with a moan as she started to lift herself up again, soon falling into a steady rhythm that was far too sedate for his liking.

Not that there was anything he could do about that. He was still effectively pinned into place, unable to reciprocate. As the walls of the femme's port rippled and clenched over his spike, Soundwave knew he wasn't going to last.

Well, that was hardly fair. It seemed that Airachnid's head start had indeed given her the upper hand, as the mech could already feel himself slipping. She appeared to sense this too, and lips that had previously been mouthing at his helm crest curved upwards once more. Pointed denta scraped their way down to nip at his neck cables, and as the femme's valve contracted with almost calculated viciousness around his spike Soundwave finally lost control; hissing out a burst of static as transfluid flooded Airachnid's port. That was enough for her to climax too, and talons dug into his shoulder plating as she cried out.

They hung there for a few moments, suspended in a cocoon of ebbing ecstasy, before the femme suddenly pulled herself off her partner's spike and sauntered towards the door, valve cover closing with a businesslike snap. Soundwave watched her go somewhat disbelievingly.

He didn't waste too much time on observing her departure though, soon directing his focus back to struggling against his bonds. This was to no avail, however, and the overload took its toll as the mech found himself falling into recharge. He barely had time to close his spike cover before he lost consciousness.

The situation had almost been worth it though, after that overload...

Unfortunately, that frame of mind didnt last one second past the point where he woke up the next morning and had to explain to an irate Megatron, several vehicons and a highly amused Knockout (who, Soundwave noticed with an unwilling twinge if jealousy, bore several scratches that he couldn't seem to care less about, along with a smattering of black paint transfers and a very satisfied grin) exactly what he was doing trussed up on the wall of the control room. Also that yes, he understood that _those stains had better not be what Megatron thought they were; _but really, he couldn't promise anything.

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**So, that was my contribution/offering/blood sacrifice to the wonderful world of Airshipping!**

**(Guess I should've mentioned also that I turned the tables in more ways than one regarding Nitro's fics - I decided that Knockout deserves a chance to stop playing second fiddle to Soundwave and actually get some for once, the poor bastard). XD**


End file.
